Strolling among ghosts of Vietnam in Hue

The girls in Ao Dai dresses (traditional dresses) in Hue city (Central of Vietnam) were releasing the floating candles on the river to pray for the dead people. It's a traditional manners of Vietnamese people.

The girls in Ao Dai dresses (traditional dresses) in Hue city...

The morning mist slowly rises off the Perfume River and floats, like an undulating dragon, over the rice fields surrounding Vietnam’s former imperial capital of Hue. From my perch on an old American bunker on a hillside overlooking the city, I see the blending of linear patterns created by the ripples of boats on the river.

It all might have felt like an exercise in meditation — if it weren’t for the ghosts.

In many ways, Hue is a city of spirits and memories. The city sits just below what was once the demilitarized zone between North and South Vietnam and was, during the Tet Offensive in 1968, the site of some of the fiercest fighting during “the American War,” as it’s called here. Spirit houses — dollhouse-sized shrines outside homes and businesses, designed especially for dissatisfied spirits who may not be settled — are tended with care, usually filled with incense and offerings, for those who were never recovered.

Despite this part of Hue’s history, its residents are welcoming and quick to move beyond the past. When I descend from the hillside and wander back into town toward the ancient Citadel, a smiling schoolgirl grabs my hand and tours me through the crumbling, century-old walls, asking as a reward merely to practice her English.

Hue first rose to prominence as the seat of the Nguyen lords in the 18th through 19th centuries, and the emperor Gia Long (born as Nguyen Phuc An) took over the city in 1802 and established Hue as the capital of Vietnam. It’s his landmark, the Citadel — surrounded by thick walls and the Perfume River — that lures visitors to the Purple Forbidden City, which at its height, was compared to the Forbidden City in Beijing.

It’s a place where the history and the focus on the future are naturally intertwined, merging and crisscrossing like the sets of ripples on the Perfume River.

The ritual begins in the middle of the night, when most of Hue is sleeping. Peppers, bamboo shoots, pineapples, ginger, lemongrass, fish, and crabs are all methodically unpacked and set out in baskets and containers in the eastern end of Cho Dong Ba, known as the Dong Ba market.

The market opens at 3 a.m., and while the bustle of opening is an interesting way to see the soul of Dong Ba, the flood of shoppers arrives after 6 a.m. then ebbs by lunchtime.

Originally located outside the Citadel’s Chanh Dong gate, the market burned down in 1885 and after reopening two years later, was moved in 1889 to its current location. It’s one of the largest markets in central Vietnam, and its denizens find a way to cram goods for sale into every possible space.

Starting inside, deep in the market’s heart, I pass through the maze of stalls and colors along displays of hats, hardware, chopsticks, shoes, paper lanterns, tea sets, costume jewelry, comic books and stuffed animal toys. Items spill out of the concrete building and into the surrounding alleyways. In the eastern end (you’ll know by following your nose), the food market is home to piles of fresh produce, fish and meats.

Photo: Quynh Anh Nguyen / Getty Images

Bun bo Hue - A popular Vietnamese soup containing rice vermicelli (bun) and beef (bo). Hue is a city in central Vietnam associated with the cooking style of the former royal court. The dish is greatly admired for its balance of spicy, sour, salty and sweet flavors and the predominant flavor is that of lemongrass.

Bun bo Hue - A popular Vietnamese soup containing rice vermicelli...

Following a friend’s advice for breakfast, I head toward the ladies stationed around the outer perimeter of the market, serving thick noodle soup — banh canh — from metal pots. But when I spy a pot of bun bo Hue, the spicy soup the city is known for, I ask for a bowl of that instead. The soup begins with pork and beef bones, adds annatto, lemongrass and shrimp paste, and then a final addition (like tossing up all the fireworks at the end of a show) of herbs, lime, sliced brisket, crab balls, and a cube of congealed pig’s blood.

The woman hesitates a moment, looks at me for one last affirmation that yes, I know what’s in that dark cube, and plops it into my breakfast. She pulls a plastic stool from behind the pots, and I devour the bun bo Hue sitting among the soup ladies, who take turns smiling at me and nodding like proud mothers.

The flag of Vietnam, with its red field and single yellow star, stands out over the Citadel in the now-dissipating mist. I cross the Perfume River with visitors in colorful plastic rain ponchos, when my “guide,” Tu Hoa, makes herself known. Clad in her school uniform of navy skirt, button-down white shirt, and tennis shoes, she claims me as her English lesson for the day.

“My English is very good,” she asserts, as she grabs my hand. “I hope it will be OK if I show you around. No charge. Just let me speak English with you.”

I toss my guidebook in my bag, willing to get a lesson in Vietnamese history, as well as insights of importance to Hue teenagers, such as cutting school to practice other languages.

Together we walk through the Ngo Mon Gate, the south entrance to the Citadel. Inside, the emperor’s residence, temples, palaces, and main buildings of state sit within three circles of ramparts — from the Citadel to the Imperial City to the Purple Forbidden City.

Photo: Jill K. Robinson, Special To The Chronicle

Ornate and colorful highlights in the Imperial Enclosure are often side by side with broken masonry and cracked tiling, due to extensive bombing.

Ornate and colorful highlights in the Imperial Enclosure are often...

While some highlights within the Imperial Enclosure have been restored, such as the To Mieu Temple Complex (complete with three-tiered Hien Lam Pavilion and the Nine Dynastic Urns), what’s left is only a fraction of the original, due to extensive bombing during the French and American wars. Tu Hoa and I scramble among a mixture of broken masonry, cracked tiling and restored buildings, including the galleries of the Can Chanh Palace, with walls of gleaming red lacquer and gold.

As we cross the moat, Tu Hoa digs in her book bag and pulls out a handful of fish food pellets.

“Lunchtime for koi!” she exclaims, and points excitedly at a school of orange fish as shiny as the palace walls, splashing and swimming across each other to get closer to an easy meal. By the time we finish tossing the pellets to the koi, I’ve accepted my guide’s invitation to have dinner with her family.

As with the Citadel, Hue’s tombs were built in the past 200 years, and as with many other rulers’ tombs, they’re monuments to ego. The most popular, the tomb of Tu Duc, was built between 1864 and 1867, and was designed by the emperor himself. The construction demanded so much money and forced labor that it led to an attempted coup, which was discovered and suppressed.

Walking along the path to Luu Khiem Lake, I spied Tinh Khiem island, where Tu Duc hunted small game after taking boating trips on the lake. Afterward, he relaxed with his concubines in Xung Khiem Pavilion to recite or compose poetry, shaking off the stress of the day’s hunt.

Around the lake shore, beyond the honor courtyard, is the emperor’s tomb — but he’s not there. Tu Duc was buried in a different location, still unknown to those in and around Hue. To keep the location secret, the 200 servants who buried the king were beheaded.

After my tomb tour, I return to Hue and easily find Tu Hoa’s home with the directions she’s written for me. I’m welcomed by her parents as if it’s a regular occurrence that their daughter selects stray tourists to share a home-cooked meal, and am immediately asked about my Vietnamese cuisine likes (everything) and dislikes (nothing I’ve yet tried).

Later, when the feast is placed on the table, Tu Hoa says that her family will walk me back to my hotel after dinner. Her mother, father, sister and brother all nod when I look confused, and as I bite into the best meal I’ve had in Vietnam, it’s explained why.

“We want you to have a good memory of Hue,” Tu Hoa says. “But if you run into a ghost at night, maybe you will be frightened to come back. If we come with you, the ghost will see you’re with family, and it will be OK.”

After dinner, before we walk through the streets of Hue, I tuck a green rock I found on the hillside into my new family’s spirit house, just in case.

It’s said that the Nguyen kings refused to eat the same meal twice in a year, so their cooks came up with hundreds of distinct dishes. Today, the cuisine of the region is rich with both delicate banh beo (small, steamed rice pancakes with dried shrimp and scallions) and spicy bun bo Hue, as well as other tasty items like com hen (clam rice) and bun thit nuong (a cold rice noodle dish with grilled pork and herbs).

The best way to sample is simply make it a priority and taste around, from restaurants to hearty street food to markets like Dong Ba Market. But when you return home, you may not be able to find the same dishes you grew to love in Hue. For that, it’s a good idea to take a cooking class while in town.

At the Hue Cooking Center, choose from a daily class (where you visit the market before cooking three local dishes) or the private class (where you can choose three dishes from a selection of up to 13). There’s also an opportunity to go on a curated street food tour, for those who may be a little shy about choosing their food outside a restaurant.

You won’t learn enough to make a different meal every day for a year, but you’ll at least have better insight into Hue’s rich food traditions.

Flights between San Francisco to Ho Chi Minh City (also known as Saigon) cost about $1,100 round-trip and can take up to 17 hours, depending on connections. From there, a flight to Hue takes about an hour and 20 minutes.

Where to stay

Jade Hotel: 43 Hung Vuong St., Hue, (84) 543-938-849, www.jadehotelhue.com. Comfortable and affordable hotel near the Truong Tien Bridge makes it easy to get around in Hue. Room rates start at about $16 per night.

La Residence Hue: 5 Le Loi St., Hue, (84) 543-837-475, www.la-residence-hue.com. The former residence of the French governor general in Hue, this boutique hotel on the banks of the Perfume River, overlooks the Citadel. Room rates start at about $120 per night.

Where to eat

Hanh Restaurant: 11 Pho Duc Chinh, Hue. Busy restaurant with a thorough menu of Hue specialties at great prices. Five-dish set menu for about $5, or choose dishes with prices ranging from about $1-$5.

Les Jardins de la Carambole: 32 Dang Tran Con, Hoi An. (84) 543-548-815, www.lesjardinsdelacarambole.com. The focus here is French and Vietnamese specialties, and a rich varieties of set menus. Fixed-price menus, from about $13; a la carte entrees from about $5.

What to do

Dong Ba Market: Tran Hung Dao Street near Truong Tien Bridge, Hue. From early in the morning, the food courts here offer the most of Hue’s delicious dishes within one place. You can also find cultural gifts and souvenirs that are better than the selection in many tourist shops.

The Citadel: Enter behind the giant flagpole near the Phu Xuan Bridge, across the Perfume River from Le Loi, Hue. In 1802, the emperor Gia long built the imperial city’s walls, within which, the Purple Forbidden City was the heart of its metropolis. Entrance is about $5, and includes admission to the royal antiquities museum.

Tombs of Tu Duc, Khai Dinh, and Minh Mang: Start at Tu Duc’s Tomb, 5 kilometers south of Hue on Van Nien Hill in Duong Xuan Thuong village. These royal mausoleums date from the 19th and 20th centuries. Entrance for all three, about $3.50.

Thien Mu Pagoda: About 2 miles west of the Phu Xuan Bridge, along the river road on the north bank of the Perfume River. This seven-story pagoda is as well-known in Hue as the Citadel. Entrance is free.